


Hold Onto Me

by BlodkruWrites



Series: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Song Inspired [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, Gen, Hold Onto Me, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mayday Parade, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Random Song Challenge, Super Soldiers in Love, song-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 19:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12613900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlodkruWrites/pseuds/BlodkruWrites
Summary: Bucky Barnes can't believe he's where he is.In bed, with his best friend asleep beside him. Everything should be perfect, right? Why do the bad thoughts never leave?-------------------------------------------Inspired by Hold Onto Me by Mayday Parade.





	Hold Onto Me

**Author's Note:**

> A short fic I wrote at 3 am because I couldn't sleep and hey I got my problems and it starts with me.  
> Comment, critique, etc.

 

Bucky's awake.

That's by no means something new. It's well past midnight and no one else is awake. Well, Steve isn't and that's everyone else that could be. Everyone that matters. The blonde is laying next to him in their shared bed, with his back to Bucky. This is how they usually fall asleep. Steve is always the first to fall asleep and Bucky doesn't mind.

Except when he can't sleep. Which happens almost every night.

Tonight isn't bad, but it isn't good either. It's past midnight, likely around four a.m. Bucky's watching the slow rise and fall of his best friend's chest as he sleeps normally. It's late. Too late. But he can't sleep. Not that he doesn't want to; he does. But his mind won't let it. Tonight is one of the nights where everything is just too overwhelming for no reason. There's an uneasy feeling in his chest. It's heavy and makes it hurt to breathe. He's tried matching his breathing to Steve's; it doesn't work. His hand- the flesh and blood one- twitches to reach out for the blonde. It's like this every night. He hates it. He wants to change, but how?

He does not mean to be this dependent. He knows he has problems, they all stem from himself and who Hydra made him to be. But he can't help it. Especially after his first week back with Steve. It feels like years since then but honestly he isn't the best at telling time. Being put under ice and out over and over has ruined that for him. It's likely why he has trouble sleeping at decent hours. _God,_ he thinks. He has so many problems, so many issues. The first week he had stumbled his way back into Steve's life was hectic to say the least.

He probably could have done it with a little more finesse too. Bucky had just showed up at Steve's door. He had knocked once and waited. And waited. And waited. The fact is had been four am was likely why it took so long for an answer. But when he got it...Steve nearly fainted when he saw Bucky. Well, as close to fainting as a super soldier could get. It was obvious Captain America wasn't expecting the Winter Soldier to show up at his doorstep. That was clear with how tense he was letting the brunette into his apartment. But, it seemed like Steve was hoping for Bucky. That was also clear with how the blonde seemed to slip back into their old habits over the course of the week. He offered Bucky his bedroom, to which the man shook his head and stayed on the couch for nearly four days straight. Steve had worried. He was cautious though, never over stepping any unspoken boundaries. Only offering food and water whenever he ate and trying to include Bucky in whatever mindless task he did.

It had taken the whole- _extremely_ slow- week for Bucky to do or say anything. The first thing he asked was if Steve would cut his hair. It was disgustingly filthy and stringy and he wanted it gone. Steve had agreed. Seeing the metal of the scissors made his heart stop and every negative thought he'd had this past week came to the front of his mind. And there were a lot. The part of him that was still the Winter Solider screamed; told him to run and about seven different ways to incapacitate Steve so he could. He nearly listened. His flesh and blood hand stayed pressed against his leg. The metal one dug into his own thigh; Bucky was sure he'd probably bruise himself. It didn't matter. The bruises would heal impossibly fast.

He didn't face the mirror as the blonde cut his hair carefully. He kept himself turned towards Steve; he was level with Steve's stomach as he sat on the edge of the bathtub. At some point, he had leaned into Steve and stayed like that until the haircut was done. He hadn't pulled away once it was done. Instead, he stayed still and kept his face pressed against Steve's stomach. His arms stayed at his sides. It didn't make any sense why this was helping him, why touching Steve like this was somehow making everything in that moment okay. But it did. It did when Steve gently wrapped his arms around Bucky's shoulders and tentatively ran his fingers through his now short hair. They stayed like that until Bucky's mind was no longer racing and he brought his hands up.

Touch seemed to be the one thing to calm him. _Steve_ touching him. His Stevie. Things didn't immediately pick up after that night. But Bucky found himself remembering things slowly. He remembered Steve- so much smaller before. Before everything went wrong. Steve sick for weeks at a time and on his death bed at one point. Steve having to look up at him just to meet his eyes. The faint blush on his friend's cheeks when Bucky would catch him staring for a little too long. Doe eyes and surprised. The same look when Steve would catch him doing the same.

Bucky moved closer to Steve's sleeping form. His chest was tight and he needed to touch. Needed to hold onto Steve. Onto something that was real before and still is now. It was unbelievable how they both ended up here after seventy years. Steve under ice the whole time while Bucky was being pushed to and from. When things got bad, he would wish he hadn't survived that fall. Maybe things would have been better if he hadn't. People wouldn't be dead, that was for sure. Bucky wouldn't have their screams and pleads ringing in his head years, decades, later.

He moved impossibly close to Steve and wrapped his flesh and blood arm around his best friend. Around the only person keeping him together anymore. He owes everything to Steve. And to Steve's friend, Sam. For keeping Steve together when he wasn't there and for when he was.

Bucky knows he created a huge hole in Steve when he left him on the riverbank. He knows. Because it left a huge one in him. It felt like something had been scraped out of his chest. But he couldn't stay because he didn't know what he would do. He hadn't been out of cryo that long before; who knows what he would have done. But he's here now, he reminds himself. He presses his face against the blonde's shoulder and tries to push back the thoughts that always haunt him. He sees the faces of innocent and not-so innocent people alike in his mind. Men and women he's killed over the years. Their names are long forgotten but their face. Their screams. They stay.

The brunette isn't aware of the shifting body next to him. Steve wakes up and becomes very aware of the cold body pressed against his. His own hand comes to hold the one that presses against his chest. He laces their fingers and squeezes. It's a bad night. "Buck?" He turns his head slowly and sees the other's face hidden. He gets it. Shifting very carefully and slow- he doesn't know how Bucky will react- he turns and faces his best friend and lover. Bucky isn't looking at him. Well, he is. His eyes are open and looking at Steve but he isn't _seeing_. He's going into a bad headspace. Steve sighs and scoots as close as possible. His arms circle the other man's shoulders and holds him against his chest. "Sweetheart, I need 'ya to come back to me." He presses a feather light kiss to his forehead.

It takes a minute or two before Bucky is back. Steve only knows he is because the arm around his waist tightens and the brunette presses his face against Steve's chest. He doesn't move, only holds Bucky. It's okay. It's late at night (or morning) and he is dead tired from being an Avenger. But this is okay. It's late and there's nowhere Steven Grant Rogers would rather be than comforting his best friend and partner. Because Bucky isn't the only one who had problems and wakes up at night from nightmares and in fight mode. No. Steve has his nights and Bucky is always there to comfort it whether it be midday or in the middle of the night. Because they love each other. Because as long as they had each other, had the other to hold onto, things would be okay.

James Buchanan Barnes would be a lying mess if he disagreed.


End file.
